


Explosivity Index

by QuickLikeLight



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Stiles, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Human Alpha Stiles Stilinski, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, National Sciles Day, Omega Scott, Omega Scott McCall, Omega Verse, POV Scott McCall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 05:14:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5278001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickLikeLight/pseuds/QuickLikeLight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not the wolf that's in heat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Explosivity Index

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seriousshit88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seriousshit88/gifts).



> Just a little something I drummed up for Sciles Day (11/24!) this year. Scott is in heat but exhibits full reasoning capabilities - no dub con here. Scott and Stiles are in an established relationship and generally just avoid one another during heat/rut weeks, since Stiles is a Human Alpha and Scott is an Alpha Werewolf. I didn't put it in the story but here's a fun aside: Scott's heats subsided due to physical stress from being turned, but since he's now happy and under his own control and no longer struggles with the shift, and he's in a stable relationship with an Alpha partner, his heats have returned. :) Hooray for them!
> 
> (If you want more specific details - Scott's an Alpha Werewolf but he doesn't have any physical Alpha-dynamic characteristics because Scott is actually an Omega. So for the purposes of the fic prior to this, he and Stiles were operating mostly as an Alpha/Beta couple in the bedroom, since Scott's heats had stopped, and as an Alpha/Alpha couple outside of it. Yaaaaaaaaaaaaay gender dynamics.)

“Oh, fuck, Scotty, man, _that’s amazing_ but what - what’re you - Dude, _please_ , you gotta slow down - !”

He can’t slow down, can’t stop for a minute, too focused on driving Stiles as mad as he feels. He pulls up from the scorching kisses he is leaving down Stiles’ bared stomach just long enough to say, “Smell me,” before he’s  back at it, sucking softly at the skin under his mouth.

He watches from under his lashes as Stiles breathes in deep, nostrils flaring as he takes in the scent of heat and sex in the room. Stiles’ eyes widen predictably and he shoves at Scott’s shoulders, but not nearly hard enough to move him away. Their bodies have grown accustomed to one another, have gotten familiar with each other in just this position if not this circumstance, and it’s hard to put space between them even when they need it.

“Jesus _fuck_ , Scott, you can’t be here man. I know you think - but you’ve gotta go, you can’t -”

“No,” Scott whines, cutting him off. He licks a stripe up Stiles’ belly, pushing at the furred trail under his navel, nipping sharply when Stiles chokes on a laugh. “Don’t make me go. Please?”

“Scotty, I think you’re forgetting something here.” Stiles sounds pained as he says it, as he works a hand into Scott’s hair and pulls him up, away from that soft, sleep-sweet skin. Scott wants it back, but he goes where Stiles leads, comforts himself with the feeling of his bare chest pressed against Stiles’ skin.

“What am I forgetting?” Even through the late stages of heat he is still himself, mostly. A little more desperate, maybe, a little more physical, but still _Scott_. He clings to that even as the red tinges his vision, as heat radiates from his skin.

“Ahhh, that I’m not the Omega you’re looking for.” Stiles smiles and it looks sad. His cock is fat and hard in his boxers, knot just beginning to ripen under the skin. It makes Scott ache, makes him want to suck and lick and bite, fuck into something soft and fuck back on something hard. “I know your wolf thinks you’re my Alpha, but I don’t have the equipment you’re looking for buddy.”

“It’s not the wolf that’s in heat.”

Scott waits for him, waits for his lightning quick best friend to catch up to the fact that the wolf may be an Alpha, but Scott’s always been Omega. Long before there was the need to bite and fill, he was used to feeling empty. It takes longer than he expected, honestly -- but then, Stiles is still half-asleep. Two AM wake-up calls generally come with a side of death and destruction, not the sweet promise of slick and sweat.

“I thought - but - when you became the Alpha, didn’t it… stop?”

“Heats don’t stop until you’re past breeding age,” Scott corrects, shrugging the same way his mom had when she’d smelled him that morning, told him to take a suppressant for the first time in over a year. The shrug drags his chest against Stiles’, making them both gasp, so he does it again just because it feels good - rolls his body against Stiles’ until there are hands on his shoulders holding him still, breaking the crest of the wave. He shudders, licks his lips and then Stiles’ neck and says, “I just... went dormant.”  

“Like a volcano?” Stiles wonders out loud, mouth agape. Scott bends down to suck lazily at one of Stiles’ dark, puffy nipples, drawing a groan from that sharp mouth. Stiles’ skin is cool under his mouth, and he loves the way it makes his brass-bold boy twitch up, like his body recognizes how much it needs Scott even before Stiles does.

“Pretty apt comparison,” Scott laughs against his flesh. When Stiles laughs back, Scott bites him. Not hard, just enough to sting, turn his laughter into a drawn out sound that rolls all over Scott’s overheated skin. “Need an Alpha to fuck me through it. Will you? Or do I need to go find someone else? Derek might, or Lydia. Isaac, maybe…?”

“No,” Stiles growls, flipping them over so that Scott is flat on his back. “You have me. Don’t need anybody else.”

“You sure?” Scott lets his eyelashes flutter, cheeks pinking up under Stiles’ gaze. He knows what he looks like, sex-flushed and arching for it under the Alpha’s body. He knows, and he loves it. Possessive heat blazes over Scott’s bare chest, down to the place where his basketball shorts tent. He feels obscene and precious all at once, powerful and mighty, stringing along his Alpha by the nose. “Maybe you should prove it to me. Show me you can take care of me.”

Stiles grunts as Scott pushes his head down, forcing the Alpha’s face into the crease of his groin. His hot breath cuts through the mesh of Scott’s shorts, lighting up the bare skin underneath. It’s a cruel tease, even this early in heat, but he likes it that way - wants the teasing and the desperation, the knowledge of what’s coming, the slow ascent that he loves so much.

Stiles, on the other hand, is not so happy with teasing.

“Get these off,” Stiles bites as he shoves Scott’s shorts down, pulls them over the hard length of his dick. They both watch as it slaps his stomach, leaving a damp trail of precome on his skin. Stiles looks his fill with heated eyes as the shorts get tangled up in Scott’s knees, not a trap, but the hint of one, just enough to make him feel a little edgy. A little wild. Stiles’ breath on his cock is wet and warm, but the heat of his mouth never comes. Instead, Stiles pushes him up by the backs of his thighs, shouldering under his calves.

“Oh God, Scotty.” He breathes hot against Scott’s slick-smeared hole. “Look so good. Gonna eat you up.”

“Don’t _talk_ about it,” Scott grumbles, the warmth of Stiles’ mouth just a hair's breadth away from where he needs it, is dripping for it.

The first touch of Stiles’ tongue makes him _hurt_ all over, fire-hot pleasure sweeping over his skin so good he aches from it. Stiles’ hair is soft and clean, slips through his fingers like silk as his tongue works around Scott’s hole, dipping into the center for little tastes before moving back to the rim. He waits for it, knows it’s coming, holds his breath while Stiles presses and laps, huffs hot air over the dampness of his skin.

“Taste so fucking good,” Stiles groans, and Scott preens at it. It normally takes longer than this to get Stiles’ mouth running, but then, normally Scott’s not pouring pheromones like he is tonight, priming them both for days of heat. Stiles’ mouth is hot and wet and wide against him, mumbling praise between long laps and little jabs of his tongue. He breaks away from Scott’s hole just long enough to suck hard, bruising kisses on the insides of Scott’s thighs, painting them purple for just a few seconds before they heal, clearing the canvas of his skin once more. It feels good, like Stiles _owns_ him, like Stiles wants to keep him.

Scott wants Stiles to keep him.

“So pretty,” Stiles says, voice full of awe as he kisses the smooth skin of Scott’s inner thigh, moves his mouth back down to the cut of his hip. “So pretty and open for me. Opening right up aren’t you? Want it so bad.”

His middle finger slides inside without resistance, just a tease in the hot clutch of Scott’s body. It isn’t enough, can’t satisfy the raging need inside him, but it still feels so much better than nothing that he wants to cry.

“Come on,” Scott grunts, reaching down to grab at Stiles’ hands, try to force more of them into himself. “I can take more than that.”

“Shhhh, I know,” Stiles promise, stroking that one finger in and out, circling it around the softness of Scott’s rim before plunging back in. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

“You sort of don’t,” Scott grumbles, but Stiles just laughs at him, leaning down to lap at Scott’s balls as he strokes his finger in and out. The drag of Stiles’ tongue just lights him up further, pushing him deeper into the heat haze. It’s too much, too much to withstand the slow push of Stiles’ finger, the barely-there touch of his tongue - Scott pushes him back easily, flips with a smooth roll of his body that allows him to present, push his head down and his ass up like he’s seen in the magazines Stiles keeps hidden under the bed.

“Oh God, Scotty, baby, _oh_ -” Stiles groans behind him, and his hands run hot and heavy down Scott’s back, over the curve of his ass, parting his cheeks. The cool air over his hole – wet and open with heat and Stiles’ effort – makes him shiver violently, and Stiles soothes him with a kiss pressed to the dip of his tailbone. “Fuck, Scott, you look incredible.”

Scott can barely stand it, the heat rushing over his skin as he waits, the little hairs on his neck standing on end while Stiles shuffles around behind him, strong hands holding tightly to Scott’s hips. It feels like forever between that little kiss and the kiss of Stiles’ dick to his hole, just the brush of the head against where he’s open and slick, ready to be fucked. He tries to push himself back, get Stiles’ cock deep inside where he wants it, but Stiles holds him still, barely nudging the head into his cunt.

“Please – Stiles, _please_ ,” he begs. He wants it so bad he can taste it, shakes with need. It shouldn’t be a problem this early in heat, but every second grows more desperate than the last, leaving him breathless and panting as he waits for relief. He has to bite down hard on his own arm to keep from screaming in frustration, but even the well-up of blood under his teeth doesn’t keep him from _needing_.

“Whoa, hey, no,” Stiles says immediately, plastering himself over Scott’s back and pulling at his arm, getting the mess of it away from Scott’s mouth. Scott watches distractedly as the skin heals over, too drawn to the sensation of Stiles’ hands on his wrists to even register any pain from the bite. Stiles settles over him, knees bracketing his own on the bed and palms resting over the backs of Scott’s hands, interlacing their fingers where Scott grasps at Stiles’ sheets. “What did I say, hm? Wait for it, baby. Trust me. I’ll take care of you.”

The slow press of Stiles’ cock into his cunt does nothing but fan the flame, sending sparks up his spine as Stiles spreads and fills him. Stiles fills him in the best way as he sinks in to the hilt, hot and hard and knot already quickening. Scott holds himself as still as he can, as relaxed as he can get while his body adjusts to the intrusion, but his muscles shake like they’re going to go out from under him, leave him a mess of burning want in Stiles’ bed that someone will have to come clean up later. He wants to beg, to plead, to order Stiles to fuck him, but when he opens his mouth no words come out – just a long, desperate keening that he’s sure half the neighborhood can hear.

Fuck it. Let them hear him.

“Scott – fuck, so hot, you’re beautiful, Scotty you feel so _good_ ,” Stiles whispers as he rolls his hips, working his cock in and out of Scott’s hole in a long, smooth thrust. Stiles is hopelessly clumsy most of the time, but he knows how to roll his body, how to move his hips, how to fuck Scott until he’s screaming. It’s good – so much better than normal, with the addition of heat and the need in him sending the tension between them spiraling upward.

He arches back, up, wanting more. He can’t reach Stiles’ mouth this way, can’t kiss him or bite at him, and he wants that – wants to give Stiles back some of the pleasure he’s getting from this. He pushes back with his shoulders and Stiles – Stiles gets it, knows him, knows every bit of him and reads him like a book, every time. Stiles sits back on his knees, pulls Scott up with him until Scott’s straddling his thighs, body pressed back against Stiles’ chest. Scott’s head falls against Stiles’ shoulder as they move together in a slow, sinuous roll, one they’ve practiced and perfected but never felt quite this way before. Stiles’ hands roam freely over Scott’s chest, stroking at his skin, squeezing at his tits, pinching his nipples until Scott squirms.

His thighs shake, hands grasp helplessly at Stiles’ arms, but Scott keeps moving, rides him until he’s breathless, until Stiles is chanting his name in a whisper just under Scott’s ear. It’s so good that Scott can’t help himself, can’t guard against the words that spill out of his mouth.

“Fuck me Alpha, please, come on, knot me, bite me, let them see it – want everyone to know – know I’m yours. Please, Alpha – _Stiles_ , please,” he gasps, mouth dry and throat scratchy from his desperate noises. He can’t even be embarrassed of his shamelessness, especially when Stiles’ mouth runs away with him, too.

“Yeah, Scott, baby – going to, gonna knot you so good, all the other Alphas will know, none of them will touch you, won’t even think about it, they’ll all know you’re mine – that you chose me, you came to me tonight. Derek and Isaac, they can watch you all they want, but they can’t touch you, because you came to me, and you’re mine, baby – Scotty, you’re all mine, aren’t you? Tell me you’re mine, Scott.”

Stiles’ voice stokes the fire in him until Scott can’t help but slam his hips down on Stiles’ cock. Every push brings him closer to orgasm, closer to having Stiles’ knot buried inside him, and he can’t wait for it – can’t wait to be filled, to have Stiles tied to him.

“Yours, I promise – knot me Stiles, want it so much, _please_.”

Stiles’ thrusts grow harsher, more erratic, and he can feel the throbbing pulse of the knot growing at the base of Stiles’ cock. It pushes insistently against his hole, the threat of it scaring and exciting him at the same time. He rocks down, testing, feeling it slip in just a bit before Stiles rocks it back out and slaps Scott’s ass for pushing it. The sting brings Scott back to himself just a bit, enough to squeeze his cunt tight around Stiles’ cock, make him just as desperate for this as Scott is.

“Oh shit – fuck, baby that’s – oh god, Scotty you’re so tight – I can’t – I’m going to  - Scott, it’s coming, can I – can I -?”

“Yeah, yes, please,” Scott gasps as Stiles pulls him down by the shoulders, forcing them together. The knot presses in, pops inside him, stretching and filling until he’s sure he’ll burst with it, too full and hot and sharp. He cries out, squirming in Stiles’ lap, unsure if he’s trying to get away or take even more – but then, Stiles’ hand is on his cock, stroking him fast and sure, and a wave of heat rolls over him, turning all the sharp pain of the knot inside his cunt to ferocious pleasure.

“Stiles - _Stiles_ \- I - Stiles, I -love you, I love you, _I love you_ -” He gasps as Stiles bites down hard at his neck, sending him over the edge. He comes hard and hot, spilling over Stiles’ hand and thighs, body trembling with relief.

“I know,” Stiles hushes him, voice wrecked and hands soft as they stroke against Scott’s skin. “Me too, Scotty. I love you too.”

Scott whimpers as Stiles wraps both arms around his torso, pulls them both onto their sides on the bed so Scott can avoid the worst of the wet spot. Around them is a mess of blankets and sheets, slick and sweat, but Stiles’ chest against his back is warm and familiar, and it’s easy for Scott to drift on the aftershocks of pleasure radiating out of him, especially with Stiles’ knot still twitching in the clutch of his cunt.

“So…” Stiles huffs against the back of his neck, arms still wrapped tight around Scott, keeping him in place. “Does this mean we can put you back on the active list? Because that definitely seemed like the opposite of dormant to me.”

“I dunno about ‘we,’” Scott says, eyelashes fluttering closed. “You, maybe. Just you.”

“Good.” He can’t see Stiles’ face, but he could hear the smugness of that smirk from miles away - and he doesn’t have to, because they’re here, tied together, with Stiles’ bite still throbbing at his neck. Whatever happens, Scott isn’t in it alone, and he’s overwhelmed with affection at that thought. He laces their fingers together, sighing contentedly as he settles in to enjoy the respite that early heat brings, looking forward to days of having Stiles right here, all to himself.

He’s almost drifted off to sleep when Stiles adds, “Maybe I won’t have to hit Derek with the Jeep.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Your feedback is valuable to all fic writers, and I'm no exception. If you enjoyed this story, please let me know.
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://quicklikelight.tumblr.com).


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